


sit back and enjoy your problems

by amberwing



Series: I Think I Shall Praise It [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety Attacks, Biting, Blood, Dream Eater Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberwing/pseuds/amberwing
Summary: Sora dared to rub some small, soothing circles over the jut of bone in Riku’s wrist, tracing the dip between tendon and vein. Riku’s palms were calloused to leathery toughness, just like his own, but right there the skin was still delicately soft. Riku didn’t pull away, just gave another shuddering sound of unhappiness.“Hey, remember when I accidentally locked Wakka in the shed overnight? And then the coconut crabs came out of their burrows in the shed with him? That was fucked up.”“Sora,” Riku whispered, “I’m a coconut crab.”





	sit back and enjoy your problems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homodachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homodachi/gifts).



> A fill for the request thread at [KH Fandom Events on DW!](https://khfandomevents.dreamwidth.org/) Shout-out to [llien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/llien/pseuds/llien) and their mind-blowing fic [Bone + Tissue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17537576) for starting the dreameater revolution. Their work is a huge inspiration that I couldn't be more grateful for.
> 
> This is literally my first time writing porn; hope it's to people's liking! Both characters are aged up to somewhere ambiguously 18+.

He shouldn’t have found this as fascinating as he did. Like, there was a word for people who got off on the idea of. Of having sex with things that weren’t human? Wasn’t there?

Is this like that? he thought wildly, mouth dry, throat tight. Am I a furry or something? 

It didn’t _feel_ wrong, and. And it was Riku. Did that change it at all? 

Riku was fucking gorgeous on a _bad_ day. Sora had no idea what today was on the scale of good to bad, and he’d never really tried to gauge his relative attraction to Riku on that theoretical scale, because he’d always been in love with Riku and since he turned 18 it had been basically one long horny trek up the Mount Everest of figuring out the question of “How do I express to my best friend that I would like to suffocate on his dick”. 

They’d gotten to maybe the midway point on the hike up said mountain in the past few months, conquering the heights of Hand Holding, Making Out, Bump N’ Grind, and the mythical Semi-Naked to Naked Groping, which was absolutely fantastic and Sora couldn’t get enough of, but he hadn’t quite found the right way to broach the next topic of discussion yet. 

REGARDLESS, this was absolutely NOT the time for him to be thinking about sucking Riku’s dick, considering Riku was freaking out and also had somehow become Batman. 

Or, well, Man-Bat.

Whichever, it was super inconsiderate, even if it was making Sora question whether he should start kink-shaming himself.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sora soothed. Riku was hunched over his knees on the edge of the bed, arms squeezed to his sides so tightly he might as well have been trying to compress himself into non-existence. He was trembling, and his breath came in fast little pants, like a dog left in a hot car. “I’m here, it’s okay. Can I touch you?”

Riku’s head tilted up enough that Sora caught eyeshine through the fall of his bangs. _Eyeshine_ , eerie blue-green-gold, like he was a cat caught in a camera flash. Sora bit his lip. 

“Okay,” Riku whispered, hoarse. “Just--not. The weird parts.” 

Sora scooted a little closer beside him, trying not to jostle him or touch the. Hm. The Weird Parts. Which was harder than it sounded, considering there were quite a few weird parts present right now, and Sora was itching to investigate them more thoroughly. (Not necessarily in a dirty way. Not yet, anyway.) 

Very slowly, very gently, he took Riku’s wrist and pressed his hand against his own chest. “Can you feel me breathing?” He took a deep breath to demonstrate. “Try to breathe with me, okay? Big, slow breaths.” 

Riku’s skin was feverishly hot. Sora tried very hard not to concentrate on the fact that it wasn’t all Riku’s usual pale shade--that it gradually deepened to a soft, velvety midnight blue, and his fingers had become elegant knives shot through with veins of gently pulsating fuchsia. 

He forced himself to look away, back into Riku’s face. Riku had pressed his head into his knees, hair obscuring any view of his expression, but he was doing his best to follow Sora’s breaths. 

“You’re doing great,” Sora said. Riku moaned miserably in response, and Sora’s heart twisted in sympathy. “I’ve got you.” 

“This is so fucked up.” 

Sora dared to rub some small, soothing circles over the jut of bone in Riku’s wrist, tracing the dip between tendon and vein. Riku’s palms were calloused to leathery toughness, just like his own, but right there the skin was still delicately soft. Riku didn’t pull away, just gave another shuddering sound of unhappiness.

“Hey, remember when I accidentally locked Wakka in the shed overnight? And then the coconut crabs came out of their burrows in the shed with him? _That_ was fucked up.”

“Sora,” Riku whispered, “ _I’m_ a coconut crab.” 

It took every fiber of Sora’s being not to burst into hysterical laughter. That was the last thing Riku needed right now--Sora, laughing at him in his moment of existential crisis. He squeezed Riku’s hand instead. “Well, you’re a lot cuter than any coconut crab I’ve ever met. And cooler, too.”

That drew a half-suffocated little laugh out of him, muffled into his knees. Sora leaned into his shoulder, brushing some of his hair away so he could see--oh no oh no, Sora thought, anguished, oh nooooo is he crying?

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, cupping Riku’s cheek. “You’re going to be okay. This has happened before, right? And it always went away just fine.”

Riku nodded into Sora’s palm, leaning into him a bit. That was a good sign. Sora could feel some of the Weird Parts brush against his back, and focused very hard on not turning to look and see which one it was. “Yeah, just. It’s never been this--this dramatic? And it always went away in a couple minutes after I woke up--”

“Riku,” Sora interrupted, stroking his cheekbone gently with a knuckle. Riku bit his lip, going quiet. The Weird Part was pretty close to draping over Sora like a blanket. From the corner of his eye he saw the curl of a dangerous neon talon come to rest on his shoulder, so lightly he couldn’t even feel it. Something twisted in his gut that was suspiciously like arousal and he frantically tried to think about ice cubes and What Would King Mickey Do?

“We’ve found our way out of weirder stuff. Worst comes to worst, we can go get Master Yen Sid, okay? See, I’ve got my phone right here.” The look Riku gave him was one of the purest horror and disgust, and this time Sora nearly choked on laughter. He pressed his face into Riku’s shoulder to try and muffle it, to no avail; the giggles kept coming. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this isn’t funny, but--”

He felt Riku’s snort of amusement more than heard it, a pleasant rumble against his cheek that sent the best little electric shocks all the way to Sora’s toes. “You’re terrible at this,” Riku told him, and his voice wasn’t so shaky now. Sora gasped in mock-indignation.

“Am not!”

“Are too. Master Yen Sid, really?”

Sora yanked his head up to give Riku his best pout, and was halfway into it when the delayed realization of Riku being about an inch away from his face hit him, freezing him in place. Riku’s pupils were blown out so far that his irises were like an eclipse seen from underwater, vivid sea-green and strange little flecks of hot pink that were most definitely new; Sora had known Riku his whole life and had memorized his eyes down to a pantone number, and this was not Riku’s trademarked 929 U. And he had _fangs_ , Sora realized with a jolt as Riku licked his lips--just a little flicker of pink tongue and a flash of dangerous white that was hidden again way too quickly.

What would it be like to kiss Riku when he had _fangs?_

Riku’s eyebrows began to furrow in concern. Oh, god, Sora was staring. Don’t drop the ball now just because you’re thirsty! “Excuse you,” Sora managed, and it came out only a little bit squeaky. Riku’s eyebrows furrowed even more, and mild panic began to boil in Sora’s stomach. “What’s that look for?”

“Are you okay?” 

Too quickly, Sora chirped, “Fine!”

Oh, that was the wrong answer. Riku’s face fell, and he drew away from Sora, pulling into himself again. “Sorry. This is--a lot, I know. You don’t need to stay here with me--”

“No!” Riku stopped, glancing at him. His entire body was tense, like he was about to run away; Sora knew that look, and it made his heart clench so hard it felt like he’d been kicked by a horse. “No,” Sora said again, quieter. “ _I’m_ sorry. I’m just. Embarrassed. Um…” Wow, how on earth was he going to say this without it sounding as weird as it actually was? “I, uh, _Ithinkyourmonsterbitsaresexy_ and I didn’t want to freak you out, because you’re really upset and this isn’t about me at all, it’s inconsiderate and inappropriate of me to keep thinking about it--”

“You _what?_ ” 

Sora cringed, covering his face with his hands. “You’re super hot like this, okay?” he gritted out. “But I know you’re struggling. It’s awful to be in a body that isn’t yours. We’ll find a way to fix it, no matter what.”

He took in a deep breath, then let it out again and forced himself to look at Riku. Be a grownup, Sora. 

Riku’s head was cocked to the side as he stared at him in amazement or horror or maybe both. Then, slowly, he started giggling. Then laughing, then he fell backwards onto the bed, long legs curling up against his belly like he was trying to hold himself together, like he was going to shake apart otherwise. “Oh, god,” he gasped. “I’m--you--”

Sora was frozen in a state of near-panic. He’d broken Riku for real this time. This was it. Then Riku drew up on his elbows, and he was smiling at Sora like he was the best thing on earth, which was both terribly confusing and kind of awe-inspiring.

“I thought you were grossed out,” he confessed. His smile quirked towards smug. “Seriously, Sora? You’re _into_ this?” He gestured at himself vaguely with a claw, and Sora felt his cheeks burn. “Wow.” 

“Fuck off,” Sora retorted. Riku grinned, baring those oh-so-sharp fangs, and Sora retaliated by shoving a pillow in his face. With a muffled curse, Riku grabbed him around the arms and flopped backwards, pulling them both down onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs and Weird Parts. Sora yelped, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but Riku _still_ had bigger arms than him, and he knew that Sora’s sides were ticklish. 

“That’s ch-cheating! RIKU!” 

Riku, being a huge cheater, ignored him. His claws were even worse than fingernails, finding all the awful, laughter-inducing bits up Sora’s ribs and belly. Finally, through gasping, teary laughter, Sora managed to get his head under Riku’s elbow and half-flip him over, using his entire body to hold Riku’s arms to his sides.

“Surrender!” Sora growled, and Riku growled right back, wriggling. “Or else,” he added, tugging the bottom of Riku’s shirt up in threat, “I _will_ raspberry you.” 

“Don’t you dare--”

Sora dared. Riku’s shriek of dismay was a glorious victory, and the helpless laughter that followed worth any retribution. 

(He’d gone so long without Riku’s smile, let alone his laugh; every time he heard it now was a treasure he hoarded like the greediest of dragons, to warm and glow golden in the fires of his heart.) 

“Truce?” Riku gasped at last. Sora made a show of considering before he awkwardly rolled off of him, wiggling until they could lie side by side. Riku’s face was adorably flushed, and his eyes had drifted closer to pink than teal. 

“Seriously, though. What’s so great about all of this?” he asked after a moment, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Um,” Sora said. “Well… I’m not sure. I think because it’s you?” He glanced away from Riku’s searching look. “Like. I’ve seen a lot of monsters, but I’ve never…” Oh, god, he had to say it, didn’t he? “I’ve never found them, uh, sexy.” Riku snorted, and Sora groaned into his hands. “C’mon, Riku! _You_ try explaining why certain stuff turns you on!” 

There was a moment of silence, in which Sora dared to peek at him again. Riku met his eyes, and his soft, fond smile quirked towards sly. “So… You _are_ turned on.” 

Sora smacked him in the shoulder, and Riku burst into laughter again. “Yes, you fucking incubus!”

“Incubus, huh?” he managed, breathless. “Is that what you tell all the boys?” 

“Only you,” Sora promised, and Riku went quiet again. Sora reached over to stroke his cheek. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

Riku snorted into the blanket. “Yeah, I think it will. Thanks, for staying with me. Talking me down. It’s still a little freaky, but.” His eyes flicked up, meeting Sora’s, and his eyebrows furrowed a bit. “I’m kinda… curious?” 

Oh, _no,_ was this going where Sora thought it was going?

“And if you’re actually into it… We could try it?”

Oh no, one part of Sora despaired, while the other part (that is to say, in less polite terms, his dick) said, Oh _yes._

Riku was turning bright red, and Sora probably was too if he was going to be honest with himself. When Sora nodded, a little too quickly, Riku huffed in that charmingly flustered way of his. “Come here?” 

Sora tentatively took his offered hand and let Riku draw him close, curled chest-to-chest. Sora’s heart was beating a mile a minute, and he struggled not to stare at Riku’s mouth, where one fang was peeking out as Riku gnawed his lip. “Are you sure?” Sora whispered, Riku’s hand cupped against his collarbone, as gently as he could so Riku wouldn’t feel trapped or obligated to indulge Sora’s weird-ass fetishes or something. 

Riku’s forehead was still one big wrinkle of worry. “Are _you_ sure?” he asked. “This might be kind of strange.”

“Oh my god,” Sora said, and pulled Riku in by the collar to shut him up with a kiss. 

They’d done a lot of kissing up to this point, but this was like starting all over, tentative after the initial contact; Riku seemed a little afraid to open his mouth, leaving chaste little pecks across Sora’s lips, from cupid’s bow to the corners of his mouth that left Sora vibrating with frustration. 

He could feel the imprint of those fangs through Riku’s lips and he wanted them so bad. “C’mon, Riku,” he murmured, and nipped at his lower lip, followed it with a slow drag of tongue. Riku’s moan sent sparks through him, his lips parting to let Sora lick into his mouth, feeling eyeteeth sharp as starlight against his tongue and oh, _oh_ it was better than he could’ve dreamed.

When they parted, they were both breathing hard. Sora licked his lips, then startled a little at the taste of copper. Riku’s eyes were nearly black, only a bare edge of hot, glowing fuchsia rimming the lakes of his pupils, as Sora stared at him in wonder.

“I love you so much,” Sora told him, very seriously. “Can I touch the weird parts now?” 

Riku’s laugh was a wave of sunshine, tickling all the way down to Sora’s toes. His cheeks nearly as pink as his eyes, he whispered, “Please,” and outstretched his wings.

It was a little awkward, with them lying sandwiched together, but it didn’t really matter; all the air in Sora’s lungs left him in a big whoosh at the sight. They were sort of like a bat’s, but prettier: long, delicate fingers stretched in silken expanses of skin from Riku’s back, iridescent midnight fading into the softest, dusty peach, patterned with intricate whorls and spirals of gold. They were also massive, the furthest digits of them scraping the far walls of their room, and the dim light of the lamp made them actually glow, like he was carrying a whole sunrise on his shoulders. 

Sora forgot how to breathe for a moment, and Riku’s warm, gentle claws on his jawline reminded him. Hesitantly, he reached up to trace his fingertips along the nearest curve of bone, barely touching. Riku’s sharp intake of breath urged him on; he gently pinched thumb and forefinger around the bottom edge of the webbing, following the line of it to the next strut. It was so soft, like peach skin, and hot against the pads of his fingers. 

Faint tremors ran through it, and when he looked back to Riku’s face his eyes were squeezed shut, eyelids fluttering, lower lip caught in his fangs. 

“Okay?” he asked, and Riku nodded quickly.

“More than okay,” he whispered. “It’s like--” and his hands gently tugged at the bottom of Sora’s shirt. Sora shuddered at the barely-there draw of Riku’s claws along his stomach. His hands clenched into Riku’s wing and Riku hissed into Sora’s neck. “ _God,_ Sora,” he growled, and he was kissing Sora’s mouth and chin and throat, urgent and hard enough to bruise. Then his fangs sank deep into the muscle between neck and shoulder, and Sora gave a strangled gasp. 

This was something Sora had suspected about himself, but hadn’t quite wanted to approach yet: that the bright silver pain of Riku’s teeth puncturing skin was absolutely delicious. He was pretty sure he was bleeding, and maybe he should’ve been a little more concerned about that? Except he was harder than he’d ever been in his entire _life._ Riku licked apologetically at the wound, soft little laps of hot tongue, soft helpless little hums as he tidied up the blood. 

“Do that again,” Sora told him breathlessly. 

Riku’s claws tightened on his ribs, and he did. Sora’s hips jerked with the sink of teeth, grinding his dick into Riku’s thigh. Riku twisted them over obligingly and settled himself in Sora’s lap. His wings were spread in a triumphant mantle above them, glowing through the curtain of his hair, and Sora had enough time to think, _**Wow,**_ before Riku ground their cocks together and coherent thought went straight out the window.

They could’ve just kept doing this, making out and grinding against each other through their jeans; it felt so good, the slow build of pressure, the flutter and kite of Riku’s wings like a new language, except. 

What if there was more under Riku’s clothes? 

“Why aren’t we naked?” he murmured into Riku’s mouth, and Riku made a gratifying strangled noise. Sora took that as an agreement, and sat up enough to help Riku peel his shirt off. It was torn on the back already from when his wings had popped out--a lost cause, in the end, when he got frustrated enough and just ripped it the rest of the way. 

Riku shirtless was always an epiphany--but Riku shirtless now was something else entirely, on another scale of revelatory lust. His chest was damp with sweat and a new iridescence that crawled up his belly like an oilslick, barely lapping at the hard peaks of his nipples. Sora didn’t wait, just leaned into him to suck on one, and Riku’s claws clenched into his shoulders like a vice, cock twitching against Sora’s through his jeans. 

“Pants,” Sora commanded against Riku’s nipple, and Riku’s high little whine of agreement made him dizzy. Pulling apart to undress was almost torture; Sora got finished first, and lay back to watch as Riku struggled with his jeans, stroking small circles along Riku’s hipbones.

After a moment, Riku slumped over him, pressing his face into Sora’s neck. “They’re, uh,” he muttered. “They’re stuck.”

Sora pulled back enough to stare at him, bewildered. “What?” 

Riku just groaned mortification into Sora’s skin. “I don’t know! I can’t get them down my legs--”

There was a brief moment where Sora’s mind was a complete blank, then he shuffled insistently until Riku let him roll them over so Sora could perch atop his thighs. His--huh. Wow, they were really thick, weren’t they? 

“You’ve gotta start skipping leg day.” 

The glare he got in answer--an absolutely beautiful magenta one, at that--prompted Sora to stick his tongue out. Riku grumbled something that Sora chose to ignore. “There’s like--something stuck?”

Oh, god, _was it his dick?_

“Riku--”

“Sora. It’s not my dick.”

That great disappointment aside, Sora applied himself to yanking at Riku’s jeans while Riku wiggled and cursed, hips arching off the bed in a thoroughly distracting manner. They managed to get one leg a quarter down his thigh, but the other stayed stuck, like one of his legs was twice as big as the other. Sora squinted at it, probing curiously with a finger.

Something distinctly not thigh-like twitched against his hand, and Riku inhaled sharply, eyes fixed on Sora’s hand. “I--I think,” he started, then swallowed thickly, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to be embarrassed or not. “I think it’s a tail.”

_OhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_

“Roll over,” Sora commanded breathlessly, and Riku gave a mortified mumble before obliging, wings folding in intricate, shivering origami against his lats, all night sky and stars and dawn against pale skin and paler scars and--

And the dreameater sigil like a faded brand, silvery between them. That wasn’t new; Sora had seen it so many times by now, but it never failed to make his heart clench, his throat tighten around an emotion too large to name. He pressed his hand against the teardrop center of it, and Riku’s skin shivered against him. He felt the slow inward draw of Riku’s breath, Riku’s heartbeat--felt like he could reach into Riku’s skin and see the careful silver links they’d created between their hearts, card them through his fingers.

Maybe, maybe that feeling was just what love was. But Sora didn’t really feel like love was a big enough word a lot of the time; it couldn’t describe all the things that clamored inside of him every time he thought about Riku: the joy, the adoration, the awe, the desire, the pride, the--the utter wonder of Riku being who he was, and wanting to share that with Sora.

“You okay back there?” Riku asked softly, and a wing unfolded like silk fan to caress his cheek, so gentle that Sora thought he just might die.

“More than okay,” Sora told him, and pressed a kiss to the center of his sigil, then licked, tasting salt and skin. Riku gasped, back arching, wings outspread and trembling around them, and Sora took the opportunity to shove his hand down the back of his jeans. 

“ _Sora!_ ” 

Yes, Sora thought with deep, smug satisfaction, as his fingers found their quarry right above Riku’s asscrack. He palmed Riku’s left cheek through his jeans with his free hand, soothing. “Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay? I’m gonna try and get it out.” 

“Okay,” Riku whispered hoarsely, and Sora felt his ass unclench a bit under his palm. Still stroking and kneading at it, he carefully wrapped his other hand around the base of the tail and began carefully working it up over the waistline of Riku’s jeans. It was dark blue and about as thick around as his wrist at the base, firm with muscle. It twitched and shivered in his grip, and Sora had to bite his lip not to curse at how fucking hot that was, how it was firm and warm and velvety like a cock in his palm--a cock that went on for what felt like miles as he drew it out and out.

Not his actual dick, maybe, but Sora could think of some pretty interesting things they could get up to with this. 

Should he have been ashamed of the wild routes his mind was taking right now? Or even mildly concerned? He took a brief moment to consider, and was beginning to think maybe yes, but then Riku’s tail flexed obscenely in his grip.

Nah. 

Riku was shaking like a leaf by the time Sora got it all the way free, his breath coming in harsh pants. “Is it out--” he started, but cut off by a sharp gasp as Sora kissed the barbed tip of it. The tail jerked in his grip, curling and coiling like a snake around his fingers and wrist. Sora sank his teeth into his own lip at the sensation, that this was _Riku_ wrapping himself around Sora’s arm even as he moaned and shuddered into the pillows. 

Was this what fucking Riku would be like? 

Sora’s brain shortcircuited for a moment, and then he and Riku together were scrabbling to get his pants down. Finally, Riku was free, and oh. Oh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Sora whispered, and Riku wriggled beneath him until Sora rose up on his knees to let him turn over. His cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, chest heaving, and oh, Sora could stare at him for hours, days, forever and not run out of things to be fascinated by: the trails of silver hair down his chest and groin, damp with sweat; the scar on his side, slowly fading; the way his skin deepened from peach to coruscating midnight blue below his navel; the bob of his (blue now! _blue!!!!_ ) cock against his belly as he breathed.

Riku licked his lips and gently brushed some hair from Sora’s eyes with a claw. “Look who’s talking,” he murmured, and Sora thought he might just pass out. He settled back onto Riku’s hips again, shuddering at the press of Riku’s cock against his own, and kissed him, hard and fast and deep. The glitter of pain as his fangs caught Sora’s tongue and lips made him shudder, and Riku chased after him as he withdrew, licking after Sora’s bloody mouth.

Sora couldn’t bear to pull entirely away, hips rolling into Riku’s in slow, soft shudders. Riku groaned into his mouth and Sora wanted to devour the sound; they could just keep going like this and that’d be pretty great--

Except.

It took a supreme force of will to pull away from Riku’s mouth. “Can I--” He could feel his cheeks getting red. “Can I suck you off?” 

Riku’s cock twitched against his, and his claws dug into Sora’s sides. “Oh my god, Sora.” He sucked in a breath, like he was trying to calm himself down, and Sora almost told him not to. “Yeah, that’d be--please?” 

Sora shuddered against him, burying his face in Riku’s neck to kiss the soft skin below his ear, follow the line of his neck to his clavicle. Riku’s wings fluttered, cupping around Sora’s shoulders as he sucked his way down Riku’s chest and belly, guided by little strokes of claws through his hair, against his shoulders.

Sora settled between his legs, trying to ignore the flicker of nerves in his belly. Riku’s cock was hot against his fingers as he drew it to his mouth. He breathed in the smell of sweat and musk before leaning in to wrap his lips around the head.

The little whimper Riku made was the most erotic thing Sora had ever experienced. It was harder to fit it into his mouth than he thought it would be, especially without getting him with his teeth, but oh, god, feeling Riku twitching against his tongue was worth any amount of discomfort. He tasted salty and bitter, in a weirdly good way, and Sora--Sora thought about Riku coming down his throat, what that would taste like (as weird as his own come, which he’d tasted a couple times out of curiosity?), what that would feel like.

He had to pause for a second and just breathe thickly through his nose, because holy shit, he was not going to come just from having Riku’s cock in his mouth. Not yet, anyway. This was his first time giving a blow job and he was going to EXCEL.

Another deep breath, and he widened his lips and bobbed his head down experimentally. The prod of Riku’s tip against the back of his throat made his eyes water, but Sora valiantly managed not to gag. He felt huge pressed against Sora’s tongue. Riku shuddered against him, claws digging into his scalp, and his voice was raw and shaking. “Holy _shit._ ” 

Sora groaned into him, and Riku jerked a bit into his throat, then went very still, trembling. “Sora--I’m. I’m not gonna last very long--”

Sora pulled back enough to look up into Riku’s eyes--they were wide and so, so pink, and Sora could stare into them for basically forever--and sucked. 

Riku’s mouth fell into an open-mouthed gasp, all swollen lips and silver fangs, and his talons fisted into Sora’s hair hard enough to hurt. That. That was exactly right. He sank his lips back down, sucking and stroking with his tongue, hands holding Riku’s hipbones. There was a rhythm to it, to dipping in time with the rock of Riku’s hips and responding to his speeding, half-whimpered breaths with deep laps and rolls of his tongue. 

Pulling back to breathe, Sora fumbled back to touch himself, shuddered at the familiar, rough grasp of his fingers. He was so close, his entire body felt electric, overloaded; Riku’s taste and sounds and the hard velvet of his dick in Sora’s mouth, the wrench and scrape of his claws, the faint breeze of his trembling wings against Sora’s sweaty skin--he couldn’t keep up with it.

“Sora, Sora, _Sora,_ ” Riku was saying, over and over again, harsh little punches of air punctuating the almost-painful force of his thrusts into Sora’s mouth. “I’m--I’m--”

Sora forced himself to swallow him down as far as he could, nose pressing into soft skin and wiry hair. He was going to choke a bit, but he wanted this so bad, he’d wanted this for so long. Riku’s fingers clenched hard into his hair, and he came with a low groan into Sora’s mouth. The taste was--not great, but the sensation of it, thick and hot little spurts on the back of his tongue? Holy _fuck._ He gagged a bit, drooling spit and come, then made himself lick it back up off of Riku’s dick, and, pulling up to look into his eyes, swallow. 

Riku’s entire body shuddered. He sat up and pulled Sora into an urgent, hungry kiss in his lap. Sora was shaking a bit too, for reasons he couldn’t really sort out right now--overstimulation? Adoration? All of the above? Yeah, he thought, gasping into Riku’s mouth as he felt hot, gentle fingers encircle his own on his dick. Yeah, all of those things. All those things and more.

“I love you,” Riku whispered into Sora’s mouth, and Sora moaned back, sucking on his lip. Riku’s hand helped tug Sora’s back into motion, the both of them jerking him off slowly. It didn’t take much; he was so wound up that when Riku’s carefully curled fingers twisted under his head just _so,_ Sora came so hard he couldn’t see for a second, orgasm a lightning-strike that punched the air out of him. 

He slumped bonelessly forward against Riku, sucking in air like he’d been drowning, and shuddered as Riku gently wiped come off of him. “That wasn’t so weird,” he breathed into Riku’s neck, and Riku chuckled, pressing a kiss into Sora’s hair. Sora melted a little bit more, letting Riku take all of his weight; they were both sticky with sweat and blood and come at this point, but Sora couldn’t bring himself to care. Riku’s chest was warm and firm and really quite comfortable, especially once he wrapped his arms around Sora’s back and laid them down together.

“It was a little,” Riku said, his lips twitching like he wanted to smile but wouldn’t let himself. 

Sora snorted into his hair, and Riku squirmed a bit, ticklish. “This was just the beginning,” he promised, forcing himself to sit up a bit and look into Riku’s eyes. They were still mostly pink, but he thought there might be a hint of purple now. Riku met his look with a raised eyebrow. “Next time, I’ll show you real weird.”

Riku’s laughter shook through his chest and up Sora’s spine, warm and exhausted. His wings were spread messily below them, one half-hanging off the bed like a fallen kite, and his tail had curled into a long, happy, cat’s question mark along Sora’s leg. “You would know,” he said, and reached up to ruffle Sora’s hair. Sora rolled his eyes at him, and let himself drop heavily back down against Riku’s ribs. Riku grunted and wiggled a bit until they’d gotten curled up side by side again, the soft skin of a wing curled under Sora like a velvet sailcloth.

Sleep was beckoning. Sora felt Riku’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek. Something soft and warm coiled against his leg; he cracked an eyelid open and saw the tail, wrapping possessively around his ankle. Glancing back at Riku’s face, he found him staring back at him, gaze sleepy and soft and so fond. 

Sora couldn’t help but smile, something small and secret, just for them, and Riku smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> I write fanfiction for fun and am not looking for criticism, constructive or otherwise. Please keep any comments in the realm of positivity.


End file.
